One Red Rose
by Saiyuumi
Summary: Gilbert has a crush on Feliciano, but the man is out of his grasp. But that is irrelevant. The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.


**By Yumi **

**Rated: M **

**Pairing: PruIta, side GerIta**

**Warnings: Eventual sexual themes, violence, and dark psychology/insanity. **

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**One Red Rose**

**Chapter 1 – Upon a Penny**

Keys clicked furiously underneath his fingers. He kept typing page after page, barely taking a glance down to make sure he was hitting the right keys. After all, when one's final science paper was only a few hours away from the due date there is no time to slow down or stop. Adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine… Meiosis, mitosis… Anaphase, metaphase…. It came slowly to him as his fingers flew across the board.

Once the first copy was produced, Gilbert sat back in his chair and looked around. Not a lot of students were in the library today. And those that were came and went with the books they were returning. He sighed and removed a single headphone from his ear, vibrations of heavy, energizing music shooting through his fingertips. Just he was ready to turn back to his paper, his attention was caught with a familiar face by the entrance. He locked onto that face, subtle jolts of enthusiasm shooting from his core. But the only signs of that joy he showed were a small crease in his brow and a curve in the right side of his lips. "Look who it is."

"Oh hello," Feliciano greeted happily, his smile already wider than his smirk. He slung his bag to the floor and plopped down into a swivel. The neighboring computer was clicked on, coming to life with a small jingle; though it would take awhile to boot up considering how old these systems were. As he rummaged through his bag for books, Gilbert found himself eyeing the curve of his back. "What brings you here, Gilbert? You usually avoid this place like the plague."

"I've got a paper due." He huffed. "Kind of forgot about it until I walked onto campus." Gilbert just realized what he was doing and tore his eyes back onto the screen. "What about you?"

Feliciano looked up for a moment and hummed, before putting his attention in finding a folder. "Oh, I have a worksheet, it's pretty easy but I want to translate some words into Italian." He trailed off awkwardly as though he said something he shouldn't have. "My English still isn't very good… Though I'm much better than my brother."

"Really? Think you're at a level to help me with this?" Gilbert teased, turning the monitor to display a vast wall of text with words he wasn't even sure of himself.

The man leaned forward with squinty eyes. "Feli, do you need glasses?" A surprised glance then a nod. "Why don't you have them?"

"Can't afford them right now."

"Oh. Sorry."

Feliciano gave a dismissive shake of his hand. Gilbert smiled, always amused whenever the man decided to talk through gestures; he never thought that stereotype about Italians were true.

After a minute or two of deciphering the term paper, Feliciano leaned back in his chair with an almost drunken look and a laugh. "…Yeah, no. I can only translate every three or four words."

"I can't do much better. I'm ready to just turn this in and call it finished." Gilbert laughed. "So… You're surviving, at least? You're not too in a rut with your English, are you?"

"Hm," he hummed as his was darted over the review paper for unfamiliar words. "What is intercourse again?"

"…Oh dear." Gilbert raised his eyebrows and stretched his mouth in a smile. This man had the naivety of a child. "Well… It's a synonym for sex. You know that word right?"

In way that was somehow both incredibly aggravating and endearing, Feliciano cocked his head. "What?"

Gilbert nudged his shoulder and put his hands out of public view, making a few obscene gestures. "Sex. Intercourse. Fucking… All the same thing." It was quite humorous, he had to admit.

Feliciano watched with a straight face before laughing in realization. His cheeks heated slightly, a small pink tint hidden away from his olive skin; Gilbert noticed though, feeling another small jolt of that strange joy in his chest. "Oh! You mean _sessuali_. I think it sounds better that way. "He hummed in thought. "How do you say it in German?"

"Ack…" Gilbert began to laugh. "It's been a while since I had to use German… What was it…? Oh, yeah. _Get_…No. _Gesch_ …_lechts _…_verkehr_? Yeah, _Geschlechtsverkehr__._ Mouthful, isn't it?" He had to hold back his volume of laughs as he realized the second connotation. He buried his head into his arms, a few chortles escaping out as he felt an angry glare from the librarian boring into his back.

The Italian giggled to be polite. "It sure is. What's so funny?"

"Mouth… Oh, don't worry about it. It's not important." He waved the issue off with his hands, still childishly chuckling away. He wiped the forming specks of moisture from his eyes and sighed. But when he saw the angry pout on the man's face his laughter went wild once more.

"Come on, Gil! It's not funny." He whined, crossing his arms. "Explain it to me! Please?"

He wouldn't lie. When Feliciano first walked into his speech class he thought the kid was the most attractive girl he'd seen this semester. Then, once people started to refer to she as _he_ and her to _him_ …Things changed a bit. Gilbert wasn't ignorant; he knew a pretty girl when he saw one and was not afraid to tell her. But it wasn't the girls that caught his eye. And once he learned Feliciano was a boy…

He blinked rather slowly, as if in deeper thought. "So, are you doing anything for lunch? Wanna grab something off campus?"

Feliciano pouted a bit more. He hated it when Gilbert put something over his head; mainly because he believed it. His friend knew more of American culture. But the Italian dropped the subject when the question came up. "Sure! Have any ideas for a place?" Without giving time for an answer, he squeaked happily, "Ooh, ooh! I know a place."

"Oh? And where is this place?"

Grinning, he spun in his chair like a child. "My family's pizzeria, of course!"

"Your family has a pizza place? No shit?" Gilbert smiled; this man really did follow just about every Italian stereotype. It sounded good right now though.

"Of course we do," Feliciano chimed with a wink. "Come on!" He pulled at the other's arm.

Gilbert barely picked up the pages from the printer as he was dragged to the door, laughing all the while. "It's hard to be around you without having fun!" He regained a controlled footing and pushed his friend away playfully, only half-mindful to stow away his essay without creasing it.

One train ride and walking a few blocks later, they arrived at the pizzeria. The building seemed old, a bit of its siding falling off. A few photographs of dishes and simple printed signs, in both English and Italian, lined the windows; it was so cluttered together Gilbert could barely see into the restaurant. They walked inside, a small bell at the top of the door chiming from the movement. "We're here!" The interior wasn't much different. Paint chipping a bit on the walls, tables covered in checkered tablecloths, a few green plants scattered to give the room color.

A man walked out from the kitchen, wiping his hands with his apron. "Lovino!" Feliciano ran up and tackled the man into a hug. He looked just as surprised as Gilbert did. A few crass words the German couldn't understand and Feliciano was pushed away.

"Gracious," he mumbled beneath his breath, eyebrows raised and his lips tugged into a confused smile.

"Oh, this is my older brother." Feliciano turned towards the other and explained in Italian, "_A friend_."

Lovino eyed the man distrustfully, causing a prickle of discomfort to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. "_Why is he here?_"

"_He's never had real Italian food before. I thought he should try some, so I brought him here._" Feliciano noticed his friend's confusion and chuckled. "_Lovi, speak English. He can't understand you._"

The darker haired man gave an indignant look before grumbling something. He turned away from his brother "You not know what you missing. Name?"

"Oh… Well, um… Gilbert. Or Gil, whichever floats your boat. Your brother tells me you've got some awesome food."

Lovino looked over to Feliciano for approval, who nodded. Stumbling over the new word, he repeated, "Awesome food."

Gilbert snorted in jest, looking over to his friend. "Wish I took Italian this year."

"I wish you did too. That way we'd actually have a class together again." Lovino tried to keep up with the conversation, but eventually lost interest and walked away. "Lovi, make us some pizza!"

The German mentally kicked himself for that one. A class together, huh? He really didn't have the best judgment. "Your brother is like my uncle. Can't speak a word of English." He helped himself to one of the tables. "I only see him once a year …But it's still the most difficult week of my life."

Feliciano chuckled as he took the seat across from Gilbert. "Yeah, that sounds like Lovi. Difficult, I mean –"Something crashed in the kitchen, like a tray clattering to the ground. That sound was soon followed by a loud rant of Italian obscurity. Feliciano didn't even wince, nor was he surprised.

"Gracious." Gilbert nearly jumped from his skin. "Is he alright?"

Sighing, Feliciano rest his head into his hand and called out. He was soon replied through the wall. "…He's fine."

"What happened?"

"He burned himself."

"Oh." He relaxed, leaning back into his chair. He swiped his chin, getting rid of a lingering itch. "So, tell me about this place."

"Well, I lived here since I could remember. Well, not here. Upstairs in the apartment, I mean. …This place was pretty popular and the food was really good when my grandfather was still alive. It was great. Filled with good food, good music, and good people. Really was like Italy, or so they would say. I don't remember much of it. I was too young. But," Feliciano's expression went from wistful to overcast. He sunk lower into his seat, his head practically on the table. "…Then my brother had to take over. It's a lot for him to handle. Too much alone. But he won't let me drop out of my classes to help him. He's managing but the food isn't as good. And," he gestured, "it's real empty because of that."

Gilbert wished he hadn't asked that. Not because the information was too much too long. …But he found himself not listening to the words anymore, just to the tone of his voice… The escalation, the depressions, and the way he bounced his syllables. His eyes wandered as well – from his soft brown eyes down to his shoulders, his arms… Until the damn table cut his line of sight.

"…No. No, it's okay." He locked eye contact again. "Being an older brother, I can sympathize with yours. Has he not gone to school at all?"

Feliciano shook his head. "He farmed before we moved to America. From the barn to the restaurant he didn't have much time for school. Still doesn't know math too good." He chuckled slightly, but it was so much more insincere than before. Empty. "Maybe that's why this place is going downhill." The sentence was punctuated with a stretch, his arms folding above his head. The German stopped looking. He didn't know what would happen if he continued to do so.

"Well, you know what they say. When you've reached rock bottom, there's only one way to go."

The Italian grunted in approval, craning his neck towards the quiet kitchen – exposing the twist in his skin to a pair of red eyes. "I think I'll go check on him. Food's probably ready."

Once Gilbert was left alone, he realized how true the man's statement was; it really was empty. He was the last one in the entire dinning room. And, when he was silent, the atmosphere was especially lonely. Almost creepy with its dim lighting. The only sound was the small babble of an electric wishing fountain. He watched as the water trickled down the faux marble structures and into the large bowl. It had a few coins already, their metal shinning like little lights themselves in the reflection of a lamp.

"Hey!"

He snapped from his trance and looked up. "…W-what?"

Feliciano sat back down, his brow creased in worry. "I asked you if you wanted to make a wish. You've been staring at the fountain for a while now." _Has he?_

"Oh… Sure. Hold on, I think I have some change." He fished for it in his pocket. "So Where's the food?" He unfolded his hand and held it out. "Need a penny? I have several."

"It's coming. …Thanks!" Feliciano reached across the table and snatched a particularly shiny one. He examined it in his fingers. "Pennies… One cent, yes?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Hey, look! 1992. That's my birthday! That is a …umm… a coincidence, no?"

"I think that's your lucky penny." Gilbert grinned. "So go on, make a wish."

He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment before flicking the coin into the water. "You make a wish too!"

_I've made plenty already_, he thought. Feeling a nice sense of childhood washing over him, the man took a breath in and tossed the coin as well. "There we go. Add another to the pot."

"So what did you wish for?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Oh… Nothing big."

He felt bad for lying.

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_**I REQUIRE A BETA.** It would be very much appreciated and absolutely wonderful if somebody could edit my work. You don't have to do much, just make sure there are no big grammar or plot errors. Thank you. _

_God, I love this pairing. I might be butchering this completely, but PruIta had always been my favorite pairing. _


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